Lisa: Phwoar, I fancy him
Zora: Ah, it's hopeless though.
Lisa: Too good-looking?
Zora: No, I mean just look what he's shoving into his face. He'll be crap in bed.
Lisa: Oh! Do I sense a theory coming on? Will it make me feel better about the fact that I can't have him?
Lisa: Come on then. Out with it.
Zora: You remember the theory about dancing and sexual prowess?
Lisa: How people dance is how they are in bed?
Zora: Yes. I've revised that. Particularly in view of the fact that we are both really crap dancers. And I think you'll agree that we can't possibly be crap in bed.
Lisa: Right. We're both complete bombshells, naturally.
Zora: Naturally. So I have now formed the theory that how people dance is how they want you to THINK they are in bed. It's all just show though. You must never let them fool you. Observing people's eating habits will tell you everything you need to know about their sexual habits.
Lisa: I like this one! Let's analyse somebody and see if it works. What's Charlotte like in bed?
Zora: Let's see. Charlotte eats a lot of oven chips and ready-made quiches when she's on her own. As soon as there's a man on the scene, she suddenly starts babbling on about how much she loves all those traditional "meat 'n' two veg" type meals. She doesn't seem to actually produce many of them though.
Lisa: So... she's basically not really all that into sex. She just pretends to be when men are around because she wants all the attention.
Zora: Fits, doesn't it? She pretends to be into sex in order to get the thing she's really addicted to: attention and adulation. Also, the meat 'n' two veg thing suggests a firm rejection of all the more "exotic" practices.
Lisa: Missionary position and a lacey pair of Marks & Spencer's knickers in some kind of floral design. I like it! Let's do me!
Zora: Are you sure?
Lisa: You've already done me secretly anyway, so I may as well hear it.
Zora: True. OK. You are one of the few people I know who never shops for food. Your cupboards are completely empty. You never plan a meal, buy ingredients and then cook. You go through life like a kind of foraging animal. You live off the chocolate croissants and bits of baguette and cheese that fall across your path as you make your way across your territory.
Lisa: Oh God! And I was so impressed with the effort I make when you're here! I really thought you hadn't noticed how hopeless I am with food. This is going to be damning isn't it?
Zora: Not at all. Your attitude to sex is the same. It never crosses your mind to keep a supply of sex - in the form of a steady boyfriend - in stock. You don't want to spend hours planning everything around the act itself. No peeling vegetables for you. You forage around through your territory waiting for a stray man to take your fancy. He doesn't have to be 'good for you', he just has to satisfy any spontaneous urges you may be experiencing.
Lisa: That's so true, it's almost uncanny! Shall we do you?
Zora: Oh, I'm not sure it really works all that well on me.
Lisa: But... oh... ah! Aaaaah! Aaaah! Now I understaaaand! Now I seeee what this is all about! Why, yoooou sneaky cunning underhanded little...
Zora (innocently): What? What have I said?
Lisa: God, you almost had me with that one! I can't believe the effrontery of it!
Zora: What? What one?
Lisa (through gritted teeth): Rrrrrr! You and your kinky kitchen appliances and your shelves full of recipe books and that gigantic cupboard full of exotic spices, and all those nifty little dishes you whip up. Come on admit it, bitch: you engineered this whole conversation just so that you'd end up being the one who's completely ace between the sheets while I'm just some pathetic drifting croissant-forager!
Zora (examining her nails absently): Mm, I suppose I am a bit of a whiz in the kitchen.
Lisa: Aaaaarrrrrgh! I hate you!
Zora (now laughing openly): The beauty of it is, you believe it now, too, don't you? The food and sex theory? You've caught me out, but it's too late. You're already completely convinced!
Lisa: Hey, actually, do you fancy a shag?
Zora: I am a Michelin-starred chef, I'll have you know! Don't you DARE try to forage me!
Saturday, 25 October 2008
Monday, 13 October 2008
It's a strange thing and, as far as I can see, it has nothing to do with size, beauty, perfection or performance; nor even with the length or frequency of contact or temporal distance: some cocks linger vividly in the mind for the rest of your life, while others seem to morph into a generic sausage almost as soon as they put their pants back on.